


The Gates that lead to other Worlds

by VictorianAviator



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: 1920s, And angst, Arkham Horror AU, Arkham horror boardgame, Caleb Widogast Deserves Nice Things, Caleb Widogast Needs a Hug, Cheerful Mollymauk, Established Relationship, I adore widogast too much for my own good, I have many strange ideas this is one of them, M/M, Molly loves Caleb, Sad Caleb Widogast, Secret Relationship, Supportive Mollymauk, The nein are a mess, Tieflings, angsty angst, critical role - Freeform, cthulhu - Freeform, eldritch horror, freaky ass dreams, lots of fluff, not cannon, save the world, there's fluff, widomauk
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-09
Updated: 2019-12-17
Packaged: 2020-11-29 08:15:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20960357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VictorianAviator/pseuds/VictorianAviator
Summary: Caleb is used to weird dreams, usually full or fire and pain. But drowning, that's something new to him. So are giant tentacled monsters, and piercing red eyes, and eldritch monstrosities, and gates to other worlds, and... he has a lot to figure out. He can only hope that his new found family are there to help him.





	1. The Worlds We Dream Of

Caleb Widogast is a smart man. He can summon fire with a murmur under his breath, he can memorise entire books just by glancing through them. But one thing he can’t do is control his dreams. And there are times where he feels as though he’d be willing to give anything to be able to take his subconscious into his own hands. 

This is precisely one of those times. 

He’s surrounded by ocean, he knows it’s the sea because he can taste the salt water on his tongue as he opens his mouth to try and call for help. It’s not as though he’s adverse to the water (as much as Jester sometimes teases him about not wanting to bathe), he just doesn’t enjoy the feeling of it crushing him from all directions. And he’s not overly fond of the burn that’s started to house itself in his chest either, lungs calling out for air. 

Which way is up? He’s not sure at this point, it’s just darkness whichever way he looks. He could start randomly swimming in a direction and hope to god that he breaks the surface before his lungs collapse entirely. But Caleb has never trusted ‘hope’, it’s uncertain and fickle and more often than not it fails him entirely. You can’t measure hope, can’t stick it in a beaker or write a book documenting its discovery. No; Caleb gave up on hope a while ago. 

Then what to do? He could try shouting again, but his voice won’t travel very far in the water, and who would hear him anyway? Not that you deserve the help. A tiny voice in the back of Caleb’s mind pipes up, and while he agrees wholeheartedly, this isn’t how he’d imagined his demise, fictional or not. He’d pictured heat, and searing flames, and pain. Maybe his friends would be there, maybe they would try to save him, maybe they wouldn’t. Caleb isn’t sure which would relieve him the most. What he is sure of, however, is that the infinite darkness and smothering weight of the ocean is, somehow, a much more terrifying way to die. 

“You are not alone” A voice worms its way into Caleb’s mind and he shivers, the voice is raspy and broken, speaking with a thick accent that Caleb can’t identify. These words, which are so often spoken as comfort, suddenly take on a much more sinister meaning. He scans the space around him as best he can, looking for something, anything, that could give away another body in the water with him. He comes up empty, but every sense of his is on edge, and he starts at each change in the current around him. 

It’s about now that his lungs decide to completely give up the ghost, and Caleb’s body betrays him, opening his mouth and allowing the cold water to flood into his system. He convulses, muscles in his chest spasming as they try as hard as they can to expel the water, but he only ends up drawing in more. For a minute he claws frantically at his throat, trying to close up his airways again, but then he realises that the fire in his chest has subsided, and although it’s still strange, the sensation of water in his lungs does not hurt anymore. 

He takes an experimental breath, and finds that, even though the feeling is less than pleasant, he’s not drowning anymore. Caleb allows himself a small sigh, half disappointed and half relieved. Dying within his dreams isn’t something that happens often to him, in fact he can’t remember the last time it did occur, but that doesn’t take away from the fact that it’s always a highly unpleasant experience. 

"Ish naga il tutem an. Ra! Ra!"

Caleb freezes as the same voice from before resonates in his head, overpowering his thoughts with an ease that prickles the back of his spine. It shouldn’t be easy to worm into his mind, he’s spent years building up defences against things exactly like this. He can’t be vulnerable again, not again, not after… He chokes down a wave of panic that threatens to wash over him, taking in deep breaths of salt water in an attempt to calm down. 

“Is anyone there?” Caleb calls into the darkness, voice muffled by the water, “I, ah, I can hear you.” 

There’s silence for a minute, but then;

“Good.” The voice says.

Caleb is sure that if he had the ability to jump in water, he would do so. Instead he settles for awkwardly paddling his way in a tight circle, on edge to register the slightest change in his area. 

It doesn’t take particularly long for something to happen, but it does catch him off guard as he was beginning to resign to the fact that maybe, this is all his dream is. Him floating in a never-ending abyss, casually chatting to creatures in a strange language. 

And that’s when something beneath him moves. Slowly at first, but then faster and faster, rising up towards Caleb at a speed that terrifies him, and he begins swimming away as quickly as he can. It still knocks into him though despite his best efforts, rocketing him in a direction that he assumes is up until he breaks the surface of the ocean and starts hacking up great lungful’s of water, retching painfully every now and then. 

Caleb lets out a long, slow breath, willing his trembling hands to still and his shuddering breaths to come more regularly. But as he begins to calm down, his hand brushes against something rubbery and he jumps, drawing his hand back against his chest. He glances down, and suddenly wishes he didn’t. Because the sea is just metres from him, sloshing angrily around the base of what looks to be something tubular and long, with rows and rows of circular suckers on the underside. It’s all Caleb can do to bite back a scream, jaw aching as he physically clamps his teeth around the fabric of his sleeve to stop the sound from being wrenched from his throat. What emerges instead is a rather pathetic whimper, one that gets drowned out in the crashing of the waves in mere seconds. 

Below Caleb’s feet something rumbles, something low and menacing that seems to beckon him to look down into the inky abyss. So, despite his better judgement, Caleb does just that, and shimmies on his stomach across the slippery surface to look down. 

For a moment or two, there’s nothing, and Caleb starts to think that maybe this is just another part of his mangled subconscious, another fear to add to his already crippling pile of anxieties. This thought doesn’t last long, however, because mere seconds later two faintly glowing lights catch Caleb’s attention. They seem to be moving fast, rocketing up towards him, getting brighter and brighter every second until Caleb realises, a bit too late, that he should move back from the edge of his platform. Although he scrambles back as quickly as he can, he still gets showered in the spray of water that gets thrown towards him as this entity bursts from the surface of the ocean. 

As he wipes the sea salt from his eyes, a tiny voice begins to chitter at the back of his mind, but as each second passes it grows into a chorus, then a cacophony of discordant voices. Some screaming, some chanting and some whispering in a language he can’t understand. But they all call the same message, the same one that forced its way into his mind earlier. 

"Ish nag ail tutem an. Ra! Ra!"

Caleb’s blood begins to thrum in his ears, adding to the chaos already tugging on his mind, and in his panic, his eyes fly open. 

This time he does scream. Loudly. Because when he opens his eyes, bleary and stinging from the salt, he finds himself staring at the face of insanity itself. Two huge, crimson eyes bore into his soul and he can’t find it in himself to break gazes with this monstrosity, even though he’d rather gore his own eyes out than look at it for another second. The mass of tentacles that protrude from beneath a flat, stubbed nose just add to the horror. 

Caleb needs to look away, he can feel his mind begin to bend as this creature gazes at him longer and longer. He needs to get out of this dream. He needs to breathe, an iron band around his chest preventing him from doing so. He needs to look away. He needs to look away. He needs to…

“Wake up love.” A gentle, lilting voice breaks into the centre of his terror, and although Caleb still can’t seem to wrench himself away, the eyes lose their intensity, seemingly retreating into their sockets a little more. “Come back to me.” Caleb knows that voice, it’s commanding in a familiar way, it’s one of the few voices Caleb trusts. So, he forces himself to break the beast’s stare, and draw breath back into his aching lungs. 

The voices in his head subside almost instantly, retracting to a low murmur in the back of his conscious that he can deal with later. In the meantime, he gasps a few more breaths and squeezes his eyes shut, refusing to look back at that thing again. 

If you asked Caleb what happened next, most likely he wouldn’t be able to tell you. One minute he was staring down the unthinkable, and the next his eyes fly open once more; and he’s lying on his own bed, drenched in sweat. 

He raises a still-shaking hand to his face, and tentatively wipes under his eyes. Unsurprisingly, he feels the damp of tears on his fingertips, much the same as every time he wakes from a nightmare. Although this time, he has to admit that there’s more than usual. 

As he reaches to run his hands through his hair, a grip on his wrist stops him, and a pair of hands reach up to cup his face. Caleb releases a shuddering breath, much like the voice before, he knows those hands. He knows their bony fingers and rough palms, he knows every callous, as well as the long nails adorning each individual finger. A thumb reaches up and brushes a stray droplet of water from his cheek so gently that it makes Caleb’s heart ache. He doesn’t deserve such tenderness. Not after what he’s done, not after-

“I know that look... And, you’re wrong.” The voice says, which manages to elicit a tiny chuckle from Caleb, which swiftly dies in his throat as the image of the monstrosity resurfaces in his mind again, and he grips at the wrists with an intensity that is sure to hurt. “Open your eyes for me darling.” Caleb grits his teeth and forces his eyes open, although he wishes he hadn’t, because in his panic he seemed to have forgotten that it’s not just giant sea monsters that possess pupil-less red eyes. 

A short sob works its way from his throat as he once again finds himself transfixed by the crimson orbs, except this time those eyes narrow in response to his fear, their depths full of concern and kindness instead of madness and horror. 

“M-mollymauk…” Caleb croaks, throat closing up all of a sudden. To his credit, Molly looks relieved to just have gotten a response out of Caleb, as he smiles to himself and gives a brief nod of relief. 

“You’re with me.” He says, “We’re in our room above your bookshop in uptown Arkham. Tell me your name.” Caleb knows this routine inside out, every time he panics (which is admittedly quite a lot) Molly will ask him a series of basic questions, tell him facts like what day it is or just use his physical presence to remind Caleb that he is not alone. 

“Ich heiße Caleb.” The words tumble out of his mouth, reverting back to his original German before he can translate them. This, however, seems enough for Molly, who releases a held breath, and brushes a strand of Caleb’s sweat-drenched hair away from his face. 

“That’s right love.” Molly murmurs, placing a soft kiss to Caleb’s forehead, bringing back memories of the first time Caleb had fallen into a panic in front of Molly, and the tiefling had gently guided him from his internal storm with soft words and even softer kisses. 

“Mollymauk?” 

“Yes my dear?” 

“Ich liebe dich.” Caleb knows that Molly understands what that means, he’s said it enough times over the years they’ve known each other. He feels rather than sees Molly’s smile as he nuzzles his way into the crook of Caleb’s neck. 

They lie like that for a while, so still that after a time Caleb begins to think that Molly has fallen asleep on him, but then Molly stirs, and props himself up on one elbow, peering down at Caleb. 

“Do you want to tell me about it?” He says, a simple question really, but Caleb still shivers slightly as his perfect memory floods his mind with images from the dream once more. “Don’t feel you have to, love. But burdens can be lighter if more people share them.” Caleb knows he speaks the truth, and usually he would tactfully brush Molly’s offer aside, because his past is his problem and his alone. The last thing he wants is for his loved ones to get caught up in his bullshit. But this dream feels different to him, it isn’t consumed in the flames like the rest of Caleb’s nightmares are. And, unlike his usual haunts, he’d been genuinely terrified when he’d woken, instead of regretful and distant. 

“Caleb?” Molly’s voice jolts him back from his daydream, and Caleb finds himself sighing deeply. Maybe this once, just once, it couldn’t hurt to share some of his burden. So, even as all his instincts scream at him to stop, he begins to regale Molly with his dream. For the most part, Molly just sits and listens, maybe half way through his hand wanders into Caleb’s hair and he begins stroking it slightly, as though Caleb were a cat. However, when Caleb begins to describe the monstrosity in all its horror, with the bright crimson eyes, he sees Molly flinch a little, and half close his own eyes. Seeing this sends a bolt of pain through Caleb’s heart; he knows what Molly is thinking, as its probably very similar to many thoughts Caleb himself has had before. 

“Maybe I should stop.” Caleb says, Molly nods silently in agreement.

Caleb lies back against the bed, allowing Molly’s tail to wrap around one of his ankles as he burrows his way into Caleb’s side. Molly is always extremely physical with his affection, but Caleb has come to notice that it becomes more apparent after he has had one of his incidents. Usually Caleb would hate this, he hardly ever allows people to hug him or touch him, not even Jester, who is the touchiest of his friends. But this is Molly, Molly who knows his body like a map, Molly who would never hurt him, his Molly. So, Caleb lies still as Molly snuggles in, and begins to breathe softly, before they fall asleep together.

He’s not sure how much later it is that he awakens once again, no dreams this time, but a sense of dread lingering in his stomach. He can’t get that dream out of his mind, every time he closes his eyes he sees that creature, and it’s driving him insane not knowing what it is. Caleb is a smart man, but he hates it when he doesn’t know something. So he disentangles himself from Molly and slips out of the bed, pausing to scratch that one spot behind Frumpkin’s ear that makes him purr just a little bit louder. And although it wasn’t Caleb’s intent, as he lets his fingers knot in Frumpkin’s fur for a second, his cat opens one amber eye and regards Caleb slowly. 

“Be a good kitty and, ah, keep Mollymauk company.” He commands. Frumpkin happily obliges, because unlike Caleb, Frumpkin loves the attention that Molly constantly gives him, even while sleeping. Sure enough, as Frumpkin pads his way up the bed and makes a small nest next to where Caleb’s chest would’ve been, Molly’s hand wanders into Frumpkin’s fur, and rests there gently. 

Satisfied that Frumpkin will do a good job at not letting Molly get lonely, Caleb leaves the room and makes his way downstairs to the back of his pokey old bookshop. He knows that there has to be something in here on that monster, there has to be. Caleb’s book store has everything, from tomes on the history of Arkham City (dating 100 years prior in the early 1800’s), to mysterious pages torn from old spell books detailing how to use ancient powers to defend yourself, or attack others. Caleb had always kept these to one side, he’d study them himself, pouring over them for hours and hours until the spell was well lodged in his mind. And while he’d never had the opportunity to actually use one, their presence in the back of his mind is comforting and constant, something for Caleb to focus on if he ever has one of his incidents. 

But in this instance, Caleb doesn’t think those spells will be of much use to him, so he abandons his desk at the back of the shop, and begins to peruse the aisle instead, scavenging anything that could even bare semblance to something that could help him. 

Something Caleb realises as he walks around his store, is that although it’s small, the number of books it holds has it bursting at the seams. There are books stacked in precarious piles against other shelves that themselves are nearly bending under the weight on them. Many of the books aren’t labelled in any sort of genres, some he even thinks might have belonged to the Miskatonic University at some point, especially one which (very clearly) has the library’s watermark stamped in the front, although a name has been scrawled over the top of it, along with a frighteningly accurate drawing of a dick. Caleb decides to pocket that one and return it to the library at a later date. 

It takes him an hour or so of searching, but in the end, he manages to find a few different books that could help him. He stacks them up by his reading chair and nestles deep into its comfy embrace as he opens the first tome, entitled “Creatures of the Deep.”

Caleb doesn’t take very long to check through this one, as soon as he begins reading it becomes apparent that it’s not the kind of information he’s looking for. And while the anatomy of newly discovered deep-sea species is fascinating to him, he discards it to one side, and picks up another one. This one wields similar results to the first, so Caleb tries again, and again, and just as he shuts the cover of the last book in his pile, the faintest rays of the rising sun begin to peek through the curtains. 

Heaving a sigh of frustration, Caleb rubs his temples a little wearily, this is by no means his first all-nighter, but it may well be the first pointless one. He’s not in the habit of pushing his body to the limit for no reason, when he does, it’s always justified. Well, in his opinion at least, according to Molly ‘I deserve it’ is not a strong enough argument. Caleb pushes this thought aside and looks back at the series of books he’s read through, he’d have thought that at least one of them would have wielded something. Some snippet of information that he could grab onto and follow. But considering the lack of knowledge in his shop of all places, Caleb is starting to think that the monster could be one of two things. 

One, it could be fictional. A figment of his imagination, something that neither he or anyone else should worry about. 

On the other hand, it could be something undiscovered, and by the looks of things, something very dangerous. Caleb shivers for a second as a brief whisper of the voices from last night creep into his head, and he prays that his first assumption is right. 

It still begs the question, why him? Caleb can’t help but wonder. Plus, if he’s honest with himself, it sounds more like something one of his friends, Fjord, used to experience. He would go to Molly’s shop to get his fortune read to see if the dreams had meant anything, they’d never amounted to much, but Caleb had become firm friends with Fjord through Molly. It had also led to his introduction to Fjord’s friend Jester, who is just a little too boisterous for Caleb’s liking, but she’s an almost never-ending source of positive energy, and Molly enjoys her company, so Caleb doesn’t mind her too much, in fact, with each day he sees her, Caleb feels himself opening up more and more to her. 

He huffs a small sigh, once again frustrated with his lack of progress on the situation at hand, maybe he could visit Jester later on and ask if Fjord’s been experiencing his dreams again of late, since it’s highly unlikely that Caleb will see him for a while now. On the other hand, he could go and investigate the river docks, they’re the closest thing to a large body of water around Arkham, and since the monster seemed to emerge from the sea, Caleb finds it logical to start his investigations (if not in a book) by water. 

With this decided, Caleb gives a nod of satisfaction and stands up from the armchair. As he does so, however, his vision swims and he feels himself hit with a nausea inducing bout of vertigo. He clutches at the sides of his head as a swarm of voices leaps into his mind, and once again, he has to bite back a panicked shout. He doesn’t feel his legs give way, all he knows is that his vision blacks out for a second, and when he opens his eyes again, he’s crumpled at the base of the chair, limbs cold and stiff. 

“Just tired.” He mumbles to himself, “You’re, eh, just tired.” He stands once more, shoving the dull throb that’s begun to invade the back of his mind deep down. Just a headache from staying up all night, he’s had them before, no cause for alarm. But as much as Caleb tries to convince himself that it’s nothing, and he’s totally fine, a little worm begins to gnaw in his gut, and another wave of nausea washes over him. 

As he begins to make his way back upstairs, he hears a thud, a loud curse in infernal, and the pattering of tiny paws. And, despite his predicament, a small smile makes its way onto his lips, no doubt in less than a minute Molly will appear at the top of the stairs, hair ruffled, night clothes askew with Frumpkin coiling round his shoulders like a feline scarf. The sight, although Caleb has seen it any, many times before, is still enough to get his heart hammering in his chest. He still wonders sometimes (all the time), just how he managed to get so lucky with Molly, because Molly is so bright and charming and vivid. And Caleb, Caleb is not. Molly is someone who deserves so much better than Caleb, he knows this as a fact, and speaking of deserve, Caleb knows he doesn’t deserve Molly with all his gentle words and soft touches. He shivers ever so slightly, as though to try and banish the thoughts from his mind, and for a moment he pretends that they’re not already rooted in there amongst the layers upon layers of self-doubt. 

“Caleb! Love, where are you?” Molly’s voice all but shatters the silence, and is followed seconds after by Molly appearing at the top of the stairs.

It’s all Caleb can do to catch himself before he falls backwards, because not only is Molly standing there, silhouette perfectly outlined by the rising sun, but for some unknown reason (Caleb silently thinks this is God’s doing, once again punishing him by outright handing him the forbidden fruit), he’s completely naked. Caleb gulps, he’s no stranger to seeing Molly’s bare form, but every single time he takes a minute to memorise it once more. He takes in every line, every perfect curve of his stomach, every colour on every millimetre of his partner’s body. And Molly, while he does this, watches him like a hawk, with a content, if not amused, smile on his lips. 

“Cat got your tongue darling?” He grins and begins to saunter down the stairs, and oh, Caleb thinks he’s going to melt into a pool then and there. He opens his mouth to speak, but his throat seems to close up, all words have fled from his keen mind, leaving him grasping at straws. 

God, Molly is beautiful. Caleb knows this, of course he does, he knows about the elegance of Molly’s long legs, and the perfect curve of his back, the tiny dip of his clavicle, the rough edge of his Adam’s apple, the spray of lashes framing his eyes, the fullness of his lips… Caleb could go on and on about how heart-achingly beautiful Molly is.

And even as he watches Molly, a wave of sadness washes over him. And suddenly Molly is an exotic creature, an exquisite peacock, pacing in its cage, trapped in something too dull for its dazzling plumage. 

'You don’t deserve this.' A voice in Caleb’s head whispers, 'you don’t deserve him.' It takes every ounce of Caleb’s being to not bolt for the door, to run away like the coward he is, let Molly find someone who deserves his love and affection. 'Let him forget you.' Caleb can feel the well of tears behind his eyes, and he blinks, once, twice. And Molly’s there again, so Caleb shoves those thoughts deep down, stows them away with the visions of sea monsters and whispering voices. And he walks towards Molly’s warm embrace, welcoming it with all his heart.


	2. The Elder Sign

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Caleb's been acting strange all day, and Molly's not sure what to make of it, that coupled with the ominous premonitions he's been experiencing have him on edge. That's okay though, maybe Jester can help Molly shine some light on the situation.

When Molly finally leaves for work, his ass is sore, his lips are ever so slightly swollen, and his mind is buzzing. Something about Caleb had been… off earlier. And not off in the usual distant-Caleb way, he’d seemed almost tearfully sad.

Now Molly isn’t an idiot by any means, and he’s known Caleb for a few years now, so he knows all about Caleb’s self-loathing, and how he tries so fervently to convince people, even himself, that he is a bad person. Molly also knows about Caleb’s history with the university, and how his research there has always been a touchy subject, maybe something in his dream had triggered an unwanted memory? 

Molly toys with the thought, it’s possible, although improbable. Last night had been a weird one for Molly, he himself was having trouble sleeping because of something he’d seen earlier on in the day. He’d been chatting with Jester in his shop, as usual, over their cups of tea, and he’d just so happened to glace down into his teacup. Now, although Molly is a fortune teller, he likes to specialise in two things, bullshitting and tarot readings. He does believe that his cards hold some sort of ability to tell the future within them, but for the most part he gets the information he needs from his customer, and uses it to ‘predict’ their future. Tea leaves, on the other hand, are something he only ever dabbled in years ago. But there was still no mistaking the gravestone, slap bang in the middle of his cup, dark and foreboding against the white porcelain. 

He hadn’t dropped the cup, it’d been a close call but he knew better than to place his entire future on one, very inexperienced, reading. But still, he’d been jumpy for the rest of the day until he’d come home to find Caleb with his nose in a book (no surprises there). It’d been a welcome sight, something familiar and grounding. Something real. 

But then the night had come, and while Caleb was bathing, Molly had decided to mess about with his cards, just for fun. He’d shuffled them, cut, drawn. Death. Nothing huge, Molly knows better than anyone that the death card doesn’t always mean literal death, in fact more often than not it signifies metaphorical death, like the death of a relationship.

Still, something in Molly’s stomach had roiled at the card, he’d ignored it. That was until he shuffled again, fingers playing over the cards with a practiced elegance. He’d dipped in, and drawn death again. He’d frozen, once is nothing major, twice could be a coincidence but… Molly had felt a twinge of fear, and there were no more cards after that. 

But then there’d been Caleb, and that is what made his evening all the stranger, all the more terrifying. Usually when Caleb has a nightmare, he freezes up in his sleep, locked in place in a situation he wishes to alter but can’t. This time, he’d been thrashing around, tangling himself in the covers, and screaming until Molly could tell that his throat would be hoarse. Tears had streamed freely from him, along with tiny hiccupping sobs that made Molly’s heart break. And then there’d been the words, not in infernal, or german, or any other kind of language that Molly had ever heard. It sounded like a chant of some kind, and Molly wasn’t sure why, but at the time it’d sent shivers down his spine… Then when he’d woken he’d talked of sea monsters with crimson eyes.

Molly grimaces and lowers his gaze, remembering the haunted look Caleb had given him when he’d first woken up. That would explain it then. His mind whirls as he walks, maybe his premonitions and Caleb’s dream are interconnected somehow. It’s certainly possible, maybe more so than Molly’s previous theory about the university. It would explain the death card too, death of an era maybe? Something big could be coming. The thought both excites, and scares Molly. But he could always check his cards again later, just to be sure. 

As he’s thinking, a chill wind begins to swirl around Molly’s ankles, and he shivers, picking up his pace towards the shop. Behind him, a crow calls out from the top of the library, its sharp cry piercing through the early morning mist like a bullet. 

In comparison to the cold air outside, Molly’s shop is cosy and comforting. This is his home away from home, a place that’s just so him that it’s almost like walking into a personal haven. It’s not a huge shop, in fact it’s what some people would describe as ‘tiny’, but every surface is piled high with trinkets and bobbins and various other pieces of bric-a-brac. He swears that he has a sword in here somewhere, it’s hilt highly decorated with snarling faces that make Molly uneasy whenever they’re revealed. 

He supposes that some of the stuff in here might be magical, and while he could just ask Caleb to identify the items that could hold magical essences, Molly finds it more interesting to just go with the ride, if the item turns out to hold some sort of archaic power, then that’s brilliant. And if it doesn’t? Well then, he’s gained a cool accessory, and that in itself is a win in Molly’s book. 

The light in the shop is dim as Molly begins opening up for the day, the mist and high winds blocking out any potential sunlight that could have filtered its way between the buildings to get to him. So as he begins opening shutters and placing baskets of merchandise outside the door, he begins to light a few candles too. Good for ambiance. It always seems to get the customers more in the mood, and while it doesn’t do too much good for Molly’s breathing, he enjoys the smell and the colours that the flames produce. The candles flicker to life one by one, casting an orange glow across the room. All except one, which seems to flare to life in a display of bright blue flame, before dying back to a normal spark like the others. 

“Strange…” He murmurs, leaning in closer to the flame. This is a new candle, one that he must’ve just dug out of the store room a couple of days ago when the previous one burnt down. And as he gets closer, he notices something imprinted on the holder at the bottom of the handle. “What are you?” He says, dragging a single nail over the detail. It’s a star, a five-pointed star with something that could possibly be an eye stamped in the middle. And as Molly runs his finger over it, the metal seems to heat up significantly. So much so in fact, that Molly retracts his hand quickly, hissing in pain. For a moment his sticks his finger in his mouth to dull the pain, but then he glances back at the holder, and his jaw drops. 

The symbol is glowing a bright blue, almost white in places with its intensity. And where Molly had placed his finger, a large red mark now resides, almost branded into the metal. Molly shivers, what the hell is going on here? Maybe he could ask Jester once she gets here, she researches strange goings on at the university. And he’d been regaled with many of her tales before, always doubting their validity. But now? Now he’s not so sure.

For now, his cards have always provided him with comfort, and instinctually he sticks his hands in his pockets to thumb through them. Drawing them out he begins to flick them from one hand to the other, practicing his routine, adding a bit more flair here and there than he usually would. Anything to distract him from… this. As he turns the cards over one another in a familiar pattern, one stands out to him. He catches a flash of its gold foil in the candle light, and it seems strangely cold to the touch, as though it’s sucked the warmth out of the air around it. 

Molly stops and holds the card between forefinger and thumb. Something in him is warning against turning that card over, just stick it back into the pack, ignore it, but Molly can’t, especially when a sign this obvious is practically screaming in his face. Whatever’s behind there, it’s nothing he’s not seen before. He turns it over. 

Molly retches slightly and lets the card flutter to his feet, he can feel his tail coiling around his ankle as the white skulled face of death grins up at him from its place on the floor. He thinks for a moment that he’s going to vomit, the feeling surges through his stomach, but at the last second it seems to subside, leaving him trembling, braced against the cabinet. 

For a while he can’t seem to move, his own limbs betray him and become a leaden weight. It scares him, not being able to do anything, not even scream for help, which he’s highly considering at this point. 

What would Caleb do in a situation like this? He’d remember to breathe properly, that’s the first thing Molly always reminds Caleb to do if he’s having a panic attack, and if Caleb ever experiences one on his own, he has Molly’s words engrained in his brain to breathe. So that’s what Molly does, he relaxes as much as he can and allows himself to take a deep breath in… and out… in… he releases a shaky sigh and buries his head in his hands, grasping onto his own horns like an anchor. About then his legs give way too, and he finds himself sliding down the cabinet to crumple on the floor, staring directly ahead. 

He’s unaware of how long he stays in that position, the only thing he’s aware of is that at some point he slips into some sort of trance. He’s aware of what’s going on in his shop, he can see the sun move across the floor and the occasional pedestrian walk past the window, sometimes glance in, but he can’t do anything. It’s almost as though he’s been put onto autopilot, and he’s not the one in control anymore. So he just sits there, watching the shadows grow longer, until there’s a knock on the glass at the front of his shop, and although Molly can’t do anything but stare straight ahead, he recognises the nasally voice that screeches at him through the window. 

“Molly! What the hell are you doing in there?” Molly has never in his life been more relieved to hear Nott’s voice, she knocks on the glass once more, before he hears agitated grumbling. “You’d better not be playing a prank on me.” She warns. 

Molly hears the click of her (totally legal) tools in the shop’s lock, before the doors bursts open, and Nott comes barrelling in along with a gust of freezing wind, and another small figure. Said small figure draws her hood back from her head and chirrups softly, making her way over to Molly and nuzzling into his side as a form of greeting. Molly can barely see her from his angle, but what he catches of her black feathers and tiny yellow petticoat are the most comfort he’s had all day. 

“Jesus Molly how do you always get yourself into this shit?” Nott says. Molly would love to have answered, but all he can do from his perspective is sit and watch Nott’s green hand wave in front of his face. “I’ll call Caleb, he’s really smart, he’ll know what to do.” Molly wants to shout out at that; please don’t get Caleb is what he doesn’t say, if Caleb sees him like this, he’ll most likely panic and begin to spiral; Molly can’t see himself right now, but he can imagine that he probably looks just about as good as some of the shrivelled heads he’s got in his store room. 

“Kiri stay with Molly and don’t leave him, I need to run and get Caleb.” Molly hears the soft chink of metal and a swish of liquid, he doesn’t need to see Nott to know that she’s drinking heavily now. The door opens once more, and there’s that brief knife of wind, then it closes and the shop falls into silence. 

“Molly!” Kiri can never stay silent for long, and soon pipes up, saying Molly’s name in Nott’s voice. Molly wants to reply with a ‘yes! That’s me!’ but he can’t, so he settles with hearing her repeat the word a few more times before she gets bored and starts to imitate the wind outside with startling accuracy. 

“Very sweet!” Kiri mimics Jester after a while, pointing at something that Molly can’t see. She reaches off to his periphery and draws back with something that makes Molly go stone cold. In her tiny feathered hands, Kiri clutches the death tarot. Molly wants nothing more than to rip it from her grasp and shove it back with the rest of the deck in his pocket, but even the tiniest movement seem impossible to him right now he can’t even shake his head to tell her ‘no’. 

Luckily, Kiri seems to know that the card belongs elsewhere, because she stashes it away in one of Molly’s many pockets, admittedly the wrong one but it’s the thought that counts, and hops onto Molly’s lap so she takes up all of his current perspective. She waves at him a couple of times, no doubt imitating Nott, then bounces on his legs, giggling in a way that seems very Jester to him. 

He can’t help but coo at the child softly, remembering when Jester had first discovered her. She and Fjord had been out doing something or another (Molly secretly thinks that they were on a date, but won’t tell anyone about it) and Jester had seen something dash down an alley. Now, because it’s Jester and Fjord couldn’t control her if he tried, of course they’d gone after the tiny thing, and had ended up following it down a series of back streets until it’d hit a dead end and had had to stop. It’d been Kiri, seemingly separated from her family and trying to live off scraps from the streets. Jester had taken her in instantly and sewn her almost an entire wardrobe, including the puffy petticoat she’s currently sporting. From there she’d just gone from Jester to Molly and now to Nott, who takes care of Kiri as her own daughter, along with her son. Molly can’t help but be proud with how far the kenku has come from the scrap of feathers Jester had found on the street before. 

“Where is he? I, ah, I need to see him.” The quiet moment is shattered as the door slams open, much more violently this time, and Caleb appears in Molly’s vision, books in hand, Frumpkin winding around his neck. His eyes narrow as he examines Molly, gently brushing hair away from his face and using an orb of floating light to look into eyes. And while he speaks slowly and steadily to Nott in a calm manner, Molly can see the slightly shiver in his fingers as he turns the pages in his book, and the way that Frumpkin is thoroughly glued to his master, a sure sign that Caleb is struggling internally. 

“What am I going to do with you Mollymauk?” Molly hears him murmur softly, voice affectionate even if the words sound exasperated. Molly wishes he could kiss Caleb right now, kiss away that little frown between his brows and the down-turn of his mouth until he’s smiling again. 

Molly watches, silent, as Caleb works on a spell of some kind, drawing circles with chalk on the floor around Molly, mumbling about components and diving into his pockets every now and again. Every so often Kiri or Nott will come a little too close to the spell, and Caleb gently shoos them away, giving Kiri menial tasks or simply asking Nott to give him some space. It’s not until he’s nearly finished, Molly assumes, that Kiri tugs at Caleb’s jacket with unusual urgency. 

“Molly!” She squawks in Nott’s voice, and Caleb nods, holding out an arm to prevent her from coming any closer to the circle. But Kiri seems insistent this time, trying to duck under the barrier to get closer to Caleb and himself. “Mollymauk.” This time it’s Caleb’s voice. Caleb frowns a little more, and picks Kiri up, carrying her over to Nott before setting back down in the circle. Kiri, however, is having none of it, and wiggles her way out of Nott’s grasp and back over to Molly. This time, she brandishes the death card and points, frustrated, right at Molly. “Mollymauk.” She stresses. Molly has no idea when she slipped it back out of his pocket again, but for some reason she’d thought it important.

Silence falls over the shop for a second as both Caleb and Nott look from the card, to Molly, then back again. Then Caleb, expression schooled into one of neutrality, plucks the card from Kiri’s hands and offers her a quiet ‘danke’ that Molly only just manages to catch. Then Caleb places the card back into one of Molly’s pockets and picks up Kiri, both of them moving out of the circle this time. He sets her down, and draws the final line on his spell. 

For a second nothing happens, and Molly has to wonder whether it worked or not, but then the runes on the floor begin to glow with the same blue light as the sigil, and Molly begins to feel his body again. It starts with him just being able to move his eyes from side to side, then his jaw falls slack, and his lungs kick into action once more. Then arms, and legs, and finally his voice seems to return. 

He coughs a couple of times, and just as he’s about to try and get up, he finds his arms full of feathers as Kiri gives him a big hug. 

“You worried us Mollymauk.” Caleb says.

“Worried us!” Kiri repeats, and to Molly’s surprise, she once more holds up the death card. Molly’s starting to think that Nott’s been teaching her to pick pocket, since he never even noticed her hand going into his jacket. Without a word he snatches it from her and pockets it, clambering to his feet as he does so. He’s a little shaky, but manages to stumble his way over to lean heavily on Caleb, who visibly sags under the weight. 

“What in the nine hells happened love?” He asks, giving Caleb a quick peck, “And what time is it?” 

Nott whips out a very old looking pocket watch at this, and frowns at it. She shakes it a couple of times before answering confidently “5:32!” Molly’s mouth drops open, he arrived at the shop just before seven in the morning, and it was less than half an hour before he found the symbol meaning… 

“I’ve been like that for ten and a half hours…” Caleb pales at this and his mouth turns down even more at the corners. Nott just tightens her lips and fiddles agitatedly with the watch. “What even, what even happened?” He looks to anyone in the room for answers, but they all shake their heads, even Caleb. Molly must’ve looked a little stunned because Caleb shuffles his feet and looks down, seemingly embarrassed. 

“I am; I am sorry Mollymauk, the spell I used could’ve been for any number of ailments. It does not, um, narrow down our search any, any further.” Molly knows this, he’s seen Caleb studying that particular spell for hours on end, and something from the way Caleb seems to be wilting tells Molly that this was by no means an easy spell to perform. He presses a short kiss to Caleb’s forehead as an ‘it’s all right’ and straightens up so that he’s not entirely leaning on Caleb for support. 

“It’s fine, Jester should be here any time anyway for our afternoon tea, she might know what’s going on.” As Molly thinks about it, Jester is actually far later than usual. As on a normal day he would’ve closed up shop about half an hour ago, and Jester takes it upon herself to be ‘fashionably late’ to every event, even ones that happen every other day. Maybe she’d had to cancel on him at the last minute, it’s perfectly reasonable that something at the university had prevented her from coming… 

He needn’t have worried though, because not minutes later there’s a sharp knocking on the door, and Jester’s face peers through the window. Molly moves to open it, but Nott gets there first, slamming it shut harshly behind not one, but two figures. 

“Oh! Hello Molly!” Jester chirrups. She then does a double take as she sees everyone else gathered in the shop. “Hi guys! Wow, is this some sort of a party? Molly is this a surprise for me?” She gives a big, cheeky grin that only she seems to be able to pull off, before undoing her jacket and dumping it on the ground. 

It’s now that Molly begins to notice the second person with her, they have a hood pulled up over their face, and their hands jammed deep into their pockets. The shadows from their hood obscure most of their face, giving them an ominous aura about them that Molly can’t help but associate with the death card. That is until Jester rolls her eyes and grabs the back of the hood, yanking it down to reveal a scowling face. 

“Jester!” The person exclaims, “You ruined my suspense.” Molly is surprised to find that the voice sounds quite feminine, rougher than both Nott’s and Jesters, but a girl’s voice nonetheless. And from the look of her slacks, Molly hazards a guess that she’s one of those feminist types, it would explain why she’s friends with Jester, whoever she is. He’d always respected those women, fighting for something they’re not permitted to have but should most certainly be allowed. Molly can’t help but glance over at Caleb as he thinks; yes, he understands that motive all too well. 

Jester, in response to her friend’s complaints just gives a big grin, and loops their arms together. “Everybody, this is Beau, we’re like super best friends, we go to the same university and stuff!” 

“You mean the only university in the city?” Nott cackles.

Jester, to her credit, ignores Nott entirely and begins introducing Beau to Caleb and Kiri before coming over to Molly. 

“And this is my also super best friend Molly!” She exclaims, giving Molly a brief hug around the waist. 

“Delighted to meet you!” Molly grins a little ferally, he can tell by the way Beau nearly snarls back at him that he’s going to have some fun with this one. 

“And the same to you.” She replies, smile so forced that it looks more like a grimace than anything else… oh yes, Molly is going to have a lot of fun. 

“I’m so, so sorry you guys. I didn’t mean to be late, me and Beau ran into some really tough shit on the way over though.” This interests Molly, especially after what he’s just experienced. “We have something kind of cool to tell you guys!” Jester carries on full tilt, dragging Beau into the centre of the room so the rest of them enclose the two in a semi-circle. 

“It’s not that cool, s’actually kinda dangerous, y’know?” Beau says, and Jester’s smile falters ever so slightly.

“It’s a super-duper cool discovery though, and technically we’re the only ones who know about it technically.” There’s silence in the room as everyone hangs off her words, even Caleb, who is used to the tangential ramblings that Jester tends towards, looks intrigued by this. “Well, as you guys know I am a really important researcher at the university…” Nott mumbles something about a lab assistant, and Beau snorts, “And Beau is in one of my classes. Now that is already really really cool, but we made a super important discovery. Look!” Her voice seems to rise an octave or so as she gets more and more excited, making Molly’s ears hurt just a little. But as she finishes her small speech, she tilts her head back to the ceiling, and at the same time Beau yanks down the collar of her coat. 

Molly freezes; and stares. 

The mark stares straight back at him, gleaming blue on both the girls’ skin, just below Jester’s chin, and to the left of Beau’s clavicle. It glows eerily on their bodies, emitting a pale, sickly light that reflects off their clothes. 

“Mollymauk?” Molly can hear Caleb’s voice beside him, and seconds later a hand lands on his arm, dragging him back into the room. He can feel his breath begin to speed up as the girls begin to cover their marks again, what are they? Why do they seem to be following Molly around? 

“Mollymauk look at me.” Caleb’s voice is soft and commanding in his ear, and his head turns almost involuntarily towards him. He’s met with the soft blue of Caleb’s eyes and a tentative touch on his cheek that he can’t help but lean into. “Was, ah, what is wrong?” 

“Those marks… They’re, they’re unnatural.” Molly says. He watches as Caleb frowns a little, brow scrunched up with thought. 

“They unnerve me as well.” He concludes, reaching one hand up to tangle in Frumpkin’s fur. Molly knows this by now to be a sure sign that Caleb is fast approaching a downward spiral as he tries to anchor himself in reality somehow. So Molly pulls him into a tight hug, ignoring both the look he gets from Beau, and Caleb’s squirming. Caleb has never been a fan of physical contact, especially in public. Molly can understand the paranoia though; the death sentence is a high price to pay indeed for loving someone. 

“Sorry love, you just look like you’re on the verge of a breakdown, that’s all.” Molly whispers. He releases Caleb, weathering the ‘we’ll talk about this later’ stare he gets with a small smile, he knows how that discussion is going to end. 

“Um, Molly? Caleb? Don’t you guys want to hear about our investigating?” Jester pipes up, rearranging her immaculate skirts. Caleb nods and Molly gestures for them to continue. “Okay, so. We were at the university a few days ago, and I kind of maybe fell asleep in one of the labs. Right?” Molly follows so far. “But while I was napping I had this super crazy dream you guys. And no, Nott I see that look, it wasn’t a really super sexy dream where I was like ‘oh Oskar you are so handsome I love you’ and there was really hot sex.” Molly decides to ask who the hell Oskar is later, because Jester’s features suddenly go serious, and the smile leaves her face. Now this scares Molly; he’s never seen Jester without some sort of grin or smile adorning her face, he thinks, sometimes, that she may wear it like a mask, but still, Jester’s serious face is kind of disturbing. 

“It wa-”

“What kind of dream?” Caleb’s usually quiet voice rises over Jester’s in a somewhat panicked manner. Molly tightens his grip on Caleb’s waist and steals a glance down at him. Caleb’s eyes are wide open, jaw clenched, even Frumpkin is pacing backwards and forwards on his shoulders agitatedly. Jester looks a little confused at Caleb’s outburst, and looks to Beau, who’s narrowing her eyes at him in a suspicious manner. 

“Why’d you wanna know?” She says. Caleb takes a couple of breathes, and somehow his hand finds Molly’s. Molly gives it a quick, comforting squeeze. I’m right here. 

“Because I too have been experiencing, um, strange dreams.” 

“What kind of dreams?” 

“That was the question I asked you.” There’s a tension in the air that wasn’t there before. Beau’s lip curls back into an almost-snarl, but Jester catches her by placing a hand on her shoulder, and stepping between the two. 

“Well I don’t know about Beau, but my dream was in the middle of the ocean. I was all alone, and there was thing really huge monster.” She shudders a little, and beside Molly Caleb stiffens. “It had these super big eyes, like Molly’s. And all these creepy tentacles. It was real scary you guys…” She trails off, glancing over to Molly as she does so and for a spilt second, Molly thinks he sees a flash of fear in her expression before the smile is back on her face once more. “But Beau had like, the exact same dream as me. And we both have these tattoos!” Molly flinches at ‘tattoos’ he has a lot of tattoos, what if hidden somewhere in there is one of these symbols? He discreetly checks the back of his hand, no sign there, just the usual snake’s head.

Caleb, on the other hand, is trembling like a leaf, Molly can feel his hand vibrating in his grasp. 

“So if we both had the dream, it would stand to reason that you’d have a tattoo too right?” Beau says. She takes a step closer to Caleb, but is instantly blocked by Molly, who stands between them with a grin, shaking his head. 

“Not today darling.” He says, revelling in the face Beau makes at the pet name.

“Look.” She growls, “I’m not gonna hurt your fucking boyfriend okay? I just wanna know if he’s like us, right?” Molly goes wide eyed and recoils from Caleb as though he’s been bitten by a snake. How the hell did she know? It had to have been a lucky guess, right? Beau just rolls her eyes. “Seriously, out of everything that’s going on that’s what you’re going to focus on.” When Molly remains stock still, Beau just shoves past him with a grunt. “If it makes you feel any better purple boy, I like girls.” Molly gapes for a couple of seconds, but then closes his mouth because yeah, that does make him feel a little less vulnerable. He can almost feel Caleb’s death stare into the back of him skull, and has to supress a gulp, he and Caleb are definitely having a conversation later. 

When he turns back around, Beau is asking a red-faced Caleb questions about where on his body a hidden symbol might be. And god-damn it, Molly can’t help but wink in Caleb’s direction and slide into the conversation. 

“There’s no-where on his body that had a symbol earlier this morning. I can tell you that for a fact.” Caleb makes a choking sound, and goes even redder (if possible). Beau just mutters an ‘ew gross’ and from behind Molly, Jester wolf whistles loudly, drowning out Nott’s fake gagging. 

“Ignore, ah, ignore him.” Caleb splutters, “There is one place a sign like that could be.” And Molly watches, wide eyed, as Caleb begins to pull the bandages away from his forearms, revealing the one place that he never shows anyone, even Molly, to this complete stranger. Molly feels a little sick in the stomach as the bandages reveal little incisions all the way up Caleb’s forearm, some longer than others that look more surgical than, than the other ones. Caleb grimaces as he looks down at the first one, nothing there. But then both Molly’s and Caleb’s gazes travel to his other arm, which Beau grasps tightly all of a sudden, because there sitting bang in the middle of a circle of scars, is a glowing, blue symbol.


	3. I know you Caleb Widogast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After realising what it is that they have to do, Caleb struggles to come to terms with his potential fate. Luckily, Molly and his newfound friend in Beau are both there to lend a hand, even if they're just as scared as he is.

After the third time Caleb vomits, bringing up nothing but stinging acid, he manages to haul himself away from the bathroom and back into the shop. There, everyone is talking in hushed voices, Nott looks concerned and keeps trying to distract Kiri with one of the many trinkets around them, but to no avail. As soon as Caleb appears again everyone stops talking and looks towards him. Molly strides over and places a soft kiss on his cheek, despite Caleb’s protests about his foul breath. 

“Feeling a little better dear?” Molly says. 

Caleb has to admit that, no, he doesn’t feel at all better. His mind and stomach have both been reeling ever since he drew back those bandages to see the glowing sigil. And when Jester had told him what her research at the university had revealed to her about the very same mark on his arm… well that had been the first time Caleb had been sick. And even that had been without Beau adding on her very helpful points about just how dangerous these ‘elder gods’ can be, and how the thing they’ve apparently been ‘chosen’ to fight could potentially destroy the entire world. 

“Ja, ja I am fine. Danke Mollymauk.” Caleb tangles one hand into Frumpkin’s fur and does his best to use it as an anchor to reality. Although, at this point, he wishes that the roles were reversed, and this is all the dream, he’d wake up soon just like any other of his nightmares, sweat drenched and whimpering. It’d be scary, but it would be better than… this.

“Alright, Jester is just explaining a little more, I know how much you hate it when you don’t understand something darling.” He jokes, and Caleb has to give him a little credit because a tiny smile makes its way onto his face and despite himself he leans up and rests his forehead against Molly’s, closing his eyes and revelling in the security that Molly provides him, just by being there. Molly chuckles and leads Caleb back over to the group, allowing him to lean on him just a little before Caleb straightens up again once he feels as though he can support himself. 

“Oh, hey Caleb!” Jester smiles, “Hope you don’t feel, like, super gross now. Beau and I were just telling everyone about all this really creepy shit.” Beau nods an affirmation and raises an eyebrow in Caleb’s direction, which Caleb interprets in the language of social-awkwardness as ‘are you alright’, he inclines his head back to her as a ‘yes’. He barely gets a second to breathe before Jester launches back into her explanation full-force.

“So basically, these really mean guys, the elder gods, are trapped in these other worlds like ‘oh no we can’t get to your dimension that’s super-duper sad because we want to eat you all arghhhhhh’ you know?” Caleb is pretty sure that he doesn’t know, but he doesn’t mention this because everyone else is nodding, and apparently not wanting to eat an entire plane of existence is something that only he can relate to. “But, sometimes these guys start to wake up from their nap time, and then we’re in trouble. Don’t worry though, because Beau and I know how to stop them! When they’re like, waking up, sometimes they accidentally open these rifts from one dimension to another, I think Beau calls them…”

“gates.”

“Gates! I knew that Beau, I knew that! Well, then you have to go on this really long adventure through them to close them up again and seal the nasty dudes back in their own dimension. And be like ‘not today yahh!’. Get it?” Once again, Caleb has lost several points along the way, he’s a very smart man, but sometimes even he gets confused by Jester’s rambling. Luckily, Nott comes to his rescue by voicing her confusion. 

“What the fuck?” She squawks. 

Caleb thinks that sums it up quite nicely. As a former student of the university, he’s no stranger to arcane lore and eldritch abnormalities, but this? This is something else entirely. Other planes of existence, elder gods, the devouring of worlds? Caleb begins to feel a little nauseous again, especially as he catches sight of the blue glow beneath his thin shirt. 

“What the fuck?” Kiri mimics, drawing a scowl from Beau.

“Why the hell is the kid still here?” She asks, a question that Caleb had been wondering himself. Luckily Molly sweeps in and scoops Kiri up, whirling her around and around while she giggles and chirrups in glee. He then lowers her down a little, still cradling her, and nuzzles his nose into her head feathers. 

“Time for bed little one.” He murmurs in a voice so soft, it makes Caleb’s heart stutter a little. When Kiri had been staying with them for the short period of time between Jester’s founding of the child and Nott’s adoption of her, Molly had become very attached to her. And although he never specifically told Caleb, he can see that Molly misses having a kid around the house. He smiles a little, maybe he can ask Molly sometime soon if he’d like to adopt a child, the thought of taking another huge step in their relationship frightens him a bit, but he has faith that it won’t scare Molly away. 

Kiri is swept upstairs moments later, her giggles fading and quickly being replaced by a muffled singing which Caleb recognises as a lullaby Molly sometimes sings to himself when he can’t sleep. It takes a matter of minutes before Molly resurfaces, features more serious than before. He walks over and flops into one of the armchairs harboured in the store, and waves a hand in Jester’s direction. 

“Okay dear, take me over it from the top. I didn’t understand a couple points there.” He says.

As Jester opens her mouth to regale them all of the ‘really mean dudes’ once more, Beau places a hand on her arm and coughs gently. 

“How about I try this time?” She suggests and Jester visibly deflates a little, shoulders slumping forwards. “You can help though, obviously.” Beau’s relents quickly on seeing this, and Jester perks up no end, in seconds her radiant smile is back on her face as though it never left. Caleb sometimes wonders how much of that smile is genuine, it appears so often and with such intensity, it stands to reason (at least in Caleb’s mind) that she’s acting some of the time. 

“Right, listen up.” Beau folds her arms and leans all her weight on one leg, something Caleb has seen Molly do quite a lot. “So, I’m a student in the university. I study arcane lore and the history of magic, Jester runs some of my classes, y’know? In one of my modules we study Eldritch beings and what the university calls ‘Elder Gods’. There’s a whole bunch of them, but the main one is this fucker called Cthulhu. He messes with your mind ‘n shit, makes your dreams go funny, that sorta thing. This symbol also comes up quite a lot, which might explain the whole weird dreams thing that me, Jester and Caleb have had. 

“We also study ‘gate theory’. Which is basically the fact that Elder gods can reach other dimensions and planes of existence through the use of, as Jester said, interdimensional rifts. Or gates. With enough of these things open the god can make its way through and fuck shit up. Close them all, and they’re gone for good.” Beau finishes her little speech and looks around at the gathered, gaze lingering on Caleb for just a moment longer before she asks, “Any questions?” 

Nott instantly opens her mouth, scowling a little, an expression Caleb has come to recognise as her ‘thinking face’.

“If you say ‘what the fuck’ I will have to punch you.” 

“Calm down blue. All I wanted to know, was how the fuck did you of all people get into university.” Nott says, blunt and straight to the point as usual. 

“What do you mean ‘you of all people’? I’ll have you know I’m a fuckin’ fantastic student. And I pretend to be a guy, of course, they’d never let a girl learn Arcane history.” As Beau says this, Caleb thinks back to his times as a student at the university, he’d been in an all boy’s class, which had been torture for him when he couldn’t immerse himself entirely in his work. But he too had been studying the arcane, and by the looks of things, he had taken a more… practical approach to his leaning than Beau had. 

“I, actually have a question.” Molly pipes up from his chair, “You said, Jester, that to close a gate you had to go on a ‘really long adventure’. How long is really long, and what do you mean by adventure?” It’s a good question, and instantly all eyes are on Jester, who hadn’t gone into any specifics about these adventures, but even as he thinks about closing rifts between inter-dimensional planes, the elder sign throbs painfully, and glows a little brighter. Caleb winces and covers it up with his bandages again, ignoring the worried look that Nott shoots him.

“By ‘really long adventure’, she means a couple days. At least. And, well I don’t think adventure is a good way to describe it. It’s more like running for your bloody life.”

“Although!” Jester butts in, “There is this one place called the Dreamlands, which can actually be super-duper nice you know?” Beau nods in affirmation, before slumping down into a chair, giving a tired sigh as she does so. 

“If we’re gonna do this, it’ll be hard, really hard. A few of us could get injured, even killed-”

“Killed?” Nott’s voice, once again, rises above Beau’s. A look of horror passes over her face as she processes what Beau has said. “Y’mean as in dead, killed?” Beau gives Nott a look that would make most men quiver in fear, Nott merely looks interested. 

“Is there another kind of killed that I’m not aware of?” Beau replies, sarcasm dripping from her every word. “Of course I mean dead. This is really dangerous stuff! I’m surprised there’s just us few if I’m honest.” She looks around at the gathered and huffs in frustration. “Three people, that’s not enough Jess.” 

Jester pauses for a moment, frowning to herself in concentration. After a second though, she nudges Beau, and points to Molly and Nott. 

“But Beau look, there are five of us! Besides, I know someone who could maybe help us as well!” Caleb’s mind instantly goes to Fjord, a mutual friend of Jester, Molly and himself. Fjord is someone that has always fascinated Caleb, right back since he was a student he wanted to know more about the half-orc, who he was, where he’d come from and why he got so jumpy at Caleb’s mention of the elder gods. Not that it’s easy to draw anything from him, Fjord keeps his secrets close to his chest, and although Caleb’s been able to sleuth out a couple of individual facts about him, he’s no-where near finishing the whole picture. 

All he knows thus far, is that Fjord has had something to do with this ‘Cthulhu’ in the past, how big a role, or how much interaction they had, Caleb has no idea. However, it does sound connected to their current situation, and much as Caleb hates to admit it, having an expert on these world-devourers could really help their case. 

“I’ll ask Yasha…” Molly says, “I’ve not seen her in a while, it’ll be nice to catch up with her over the destruction of the world.”

Although Molly’s voice is light and joking, Caleb notices that he falters ever so slightly towards the end, and he realises that Molly really is scared. Just like him, just like everyone else in this room most likely. Gods… he doesn’t want to lose Molly, he doesn’t want to lose Nott, or Jester, or Kiri. Even Beau he’d take over an elder god. He feels a lump start to build in his throat as he recalls the last time he lost everything, it’d been so slow and agonising. And it’d been his fault. 

Will this be the same, he wonders? If he fails to stop this, everyone will die. Slowly, painfully. And it’ll still be his fault. He mustn’t… no. He can’t do that again. He can’t part with Jester’s smile and Molly’s laugh and Nott’s hugs. He just can’t. Which is why he squares his shoulders and looks around at the gathered, chin jutting out as he says,

“I will go through the first gate.” 

The low buzz of conversation in the room stops instantly, all eyes swivel to Caleb, but he refuses to back down. He sets himself solidly and nods towards Beau.

“You, ah, you seem to know the most about these gates. I will go with you.” 

Beau gives him a grin, something a more than a little wild, and kind of feral that makes Caleb think that she’s enjoying this, just a little. 

“Caleb, can I talk to you for a second?” Molly appears beside him, grasping his arm a little tighter than usual. Caleb allows himself to be led from the room, squeezing into the tiny back storage cupboard, and ignoring Jester’s not-so-hushed whisper of ‘they’re totally making out right now’. 

“Are you out of your mind?” Molly’s voice is barely above a murmur, but Caleb can hear the concern behind it, and in the darkness see Molly’s eyes glowing ever so slightly. He knows Molly can see him when he shakes his head. He’s not insane, he knows full well what he’s doing. The risks he’s taking. And after another glance at Molly, he knows why he’s taking them. “Love, what are you doing? Did you hear what Beau said. Potentially deadly.” Molly says the words slower, as though punctuating them so Caleb can better understand their meaning. 

“I know Mollymauk, but I can take care of myself. Do not worry.” 

There’s a soft laugh of disbelief, before Molly’s hand comes up to cup Caleb’s cheek. 

“Dear, there’s not a moment that goes by when I don’t worry about you. I don’t know what goes on up in that head. Most of the time you’re worlds away from anyone, trapped in a book of some sort, looking so peaceful that I don’t half wonder if you’d rather be there than here. I love you Caleb Widogast, but you concern me. Don’t think I don’t notice that caged look in your eyes, or the way you cling to Frumpkin like a lifeline. I know you love, I know you very well. So please, don’t tell me what I should and should not worry about. I’ll decide that for myself.” Caleb’s breath catches in his throat, he’s rendered speechless and it’s not until Molly makes a soft tutting sound and brushes something away from his cheek, that he realises that he’s crying. “Don’t cry love. If you really want to go, you can. I’ll not stop you. But, leave something with me? So you have to come back.” 

“Mollymauk…” Caleb chokes out, you don’t deserve this, “You already,” You’re a liar. “You already own, my, my entire heart.” Manipulation will get you nowhere Widogast. “What more could you possibly want?” He deserves better than you. A small sob works its way from Caleb’s throat.

Murderer.

“I want…” Molly seems to consider for a minute, silence descending on the room as he mulls it over. “I want your everything. Heart, mind, soul, body.”

“But you own all of those things too.” Caleb answers honestly, shoving the voice deep deep down, as far as he can get it to go. 

“I do?” Molly feigns surprise, “Lucky me…” He leans in and presses an open-mouthed kiss against Caleb’s lips, allowing one of his pointed canines to graze gently along the skin. “I’ll hold you to that darling, I’ll show you how much I truly own later. But for now…” A short, sweet peck on the tip of the nose. “You may go, I can see how much you want to. I’ll do whatever I can to help you here. I assume you’ll need your books from the shop?”

Caleb almost sobs once more with gratitude, but manages to maintain his composure with a small nod. 

“Ja, ja that would be helpful.” He says. 

“Alright.”

They stand in silence for a minute, just enjoying each other’s company. Caleb kisses Molly a couple of times as small reminders that he’s real, and will still be real after he closes this thing with Beau… 

Well, he hopes that’ll be the case anyway. 

Molly gives him one last chaste kiss before leading him back out into the shop. Caleb grimaces as Jester wiggles her eyebrows suggestively, while Beau just folds her arms and leans all of her weight onto one leg. 

“So, you coming or what?” She asks. 

Caleb withdraws his hand from Molly’s and clasps them together at his front, clenching his fists so he can ignore their shaking. 

“Yeah, I’ll come with you Beauregard. But, I need to go and, um, and get some books from the shop.” Caleb says. Beau nods slowly, running a hand through her hair as she does. 

“That could work, Jester said that the gate had opened in-”

“It was in the woods yeah!” Jester interrupts, “I think you should go really soon because we kinda don’t want other people finding this thing.”

“My thoughts exactly.” Molly says, sweeping his arms out in a grand gesture. “We should all head back to Caleb’s shop, there he can gather what books he’ll need for this, and the rest of you can come round for tea while we wait for them.” 

“Oh, a tea party!” Jester squeals slightly and rummages in her handbag for a second before withdrawing a very stale, slightly mouldy doughnut. “Look! We can have some of my doughnuts!” 

“Perfect. Then let’s go, shall we?” Molly claps his hands together, smiling worriedly in Caleb’s direction. The expression makes Caleb’s heart stutter for a moment, usually he is the one dragging Molly away from ridiculous situations, telling him not to chase that random cat down the middle of the road, or stopping him from challenging annoying customers to duels with the ornate swords in his shop, but this time it seems to be the other way around. Caleb isn’t sure he likes that, it gives him the feeling that he’s been insanely stupid, suicidal even. 

“Hey. Caleb.” A firm hand rests on his shoulder awkwardly and Caleb jumps, hand on his heart as he’s pulled from his mind. “You, you all right there?” Beau peers at him, “You look kinda nervous.”

“Well, ja. I am about to jump into another world with you of course I am nervous.” Caleb lets out a shaky laugh and runs a hand through his hair. “I do not know what we are doing, and if I am being honest with you, I am terrified.” Beau’s lip twitches at this, and for a moment Caleb thinks she’s going to smile, before she plonks herself on the floor next to him and buries her face in her hands.

“Me too man, me too…” She says, “I only have a vague idea of what we’re doing, I don’t know where we’re going or what it’s gonna be like when we get there. I don’t know anything.” 

“Well that makes two of us then.” Caleb offers her a hand to stand back up after her brief display of vulnerability, which she accepts, almost pulling Caleb over as she hoists herself up. 

“Thanks Caleb.” She pauses for a moment and scans him quickly, “We’re idiots, aren’t we?” 

“I’m sure a lot of people would view it that way.” She gives a brief bark of a laugh and punches him on the arm in a way that was probably meant to be friendly, but will most certainly leave a bruise in the upcoming days. He grimaces and rubs the sore spot, ignoring Beau as her laughter intensifies at his reaction. 

“Are we all ready to go?” Molly appears from around the corner, and this time it takes everything Caleb has to not chuckle himself. Molly has somehow acquired a curved, jewelled scimitar, which is resting at his hip in a nonchalant way that really only Molly could be able to do. Caleb covers his face to hide his growing grin, really what does Molly think he’s going to do? Dazzle creatures to death?

“Molly what the fuck is that.” Jester deadpans, folding her arms sceptically. 

“This? Oh, this is an ancient warrior’s weapon, used in the far east by assassins and -”

“That’s bullshit.” Jester says again, this time with a smile in her words, “Well as long as it can cut things you know?” 

“I could make the best steak with this…” Molly muses absently, ignoring both Jester and Beau, who have collapsed into a fit of giggles. Once they compose themselves, Jester looks around the room, gaze falling on Nott eventually. 

“What have you got Nott?” She asks.

In response, Nott silently brandishes a gun and spins the cylinder. It would probably have looked really cool, in Caleb’s opinion, if she hadn’t fumbled at the last second and dropped the damn thing. 

“How much ammunition do you have?” Beau says, moving to stand next to Caleb with her arms crossed. 

“I have enough.” Nott grins a little ferally, shaking her pocket where the clink and rattle of a lot of extra ammo can be heard. Sometimes it crosses Caleb’s mind that he should probably ask Nott where she gets all her stuff, but most of the time he just brushes that thought away, she works for the local newspaper gods damn it, she’s going to have ways to get things that should probably be illegal. 

“And Caleb?” Beau rounds on him suddenly, “Do you have a weapon of some kind stashed in that coat of yours?” 

Caleb shakes his head silently, pulling out one of his spell books as he does so. 

“I do not have any, ah, any physical weapons, but I can guarantee you everything in this book will be able to pack a punch.” He taps is a couple of times before sliding it back into its rightful place in a pocket just under his arm. It nestles there comfortably, a solid presence of his power just tucked neatly away. 

“Alright,” Beau looks him over once more, as though trying to look into his mind, “Okay, as long as you’re happy with that.” She cracks her knuckles as she looks around the room. A wry smile makes its way onto her face and she shakes her head. “We’re so completely fucked.” Laughter echoes around the shop, some genuine, some sarcastic and some nervous. It fades after a few moments, leaving the shop in an uncomfortable silence that even Caleb, who is used to this feeling, finds unbearably awkward. 

Eventually the silence is broken as Jester sighs loudly and asks, “Well are we leaving or not? Gods, come on!” Caleb makes a note to thank her later as they’re all ushered out the door, Molly protesting loudly that he needs to blow all the candles out or his shop will burn down. Jester gives him a disappointed look and extends her hands, a cold breeze flowing around the room and extinguishing the candles one after another. 

“You are a tiefling Molly, you can do that too you know?” 

Molly places a kiss on her temple as he walks away, “I know! I just couldn’t be bothered this time around.” Jester looks as though she’s going to throw a retort at him, but just fumes silently and stalks over to Beau, who slings an arm over her shoulder and whispers something inaudible in Jester’s ear. This seems to perk her up a little as she giggles and a little spring returns to her step. 

“You will get Yasha while I am away ja?” Caleb asks as Molly falls into step alongside him. 

“Sure I will, as I said I haven’t seen her in a while and it’ll be nice to catch up.” Molly steps a little closer to Caleb, letting their arms brush together as they walk, a risky move to pull in public but one Caleb is willing to take at this moment in time. “Caleb…” Molly’s voice drops to a murmur, barely audible above the sounds of the city. “I hope you know what it is that you’re doing.” 

“Mollymauk I have no idea what I am doing. All I know is why I am doing it, that is not a difficult question to answer.” Caleb can feel irritation beginning to build in him, but can’t seem to understand why. He chose to do this, he knows the risks, Molly is just looking out for him, as usual. 

“I know my dear,” Caleb can almost hear the sadness in Molly’s voice, and it makes his heart crack just that little bit more. It’s enough that a tiny tear slides from the corner of his eye, and he lets it track down the contours of his face like a map, before plummeting to the floor below. He doesn’t acknowledge it, or even wipe away the trail it has made, but he knows it was there, and a quick glance at Molly reveals that he saw it too. Molly hardly misses anything. “We can get through it.” Molly briefly squeezes Caleb’s hand before taking a step away, still next to Caleb but this time at a more appropriate distance, the message to Caleb is clear: don’t worry; I’m always beside you.

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to this story, otherwise known as Lovecraft fan meets Widomauk trash. A weird as fuck combination but we're going with it. Thank you so much for taking the time to read! I hope you enjoy this mess of a story!


End file.
